


to love something that death can touch

by timeinthetardis



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: 5x08 "Birth", Angst, Dark Swan Arc, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Mild Blood, Non-Permanent Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-12
Updated: 2015-11-12
Packaged: 2018-05-01 05:45:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,770
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5194415
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/timeinthetardis/pseuds/timeinthetardis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A high-pitched whine fills the air, and Emma isn't sure if she's the one making that sound or if it's some aftereffect of her magic, but she doesn't care. It doesn't matter, <i>none of it matters</i>, because she's on her knees next to Killian and he's pulling his shaking hand away from his abdomen, and it's slick with blood and no, <i>no</i>, absolutely not, <i>this is not happening</i>. </p><p>---</p><p>Speculation based on the trailer for 5x08 "Birth" and <a href="https://41.media.tumblr.com/b457b8744164af03e9aa7935981ce3af/tumblr_inline_nxkm40QhX31r4ybru_540.jpg">this picture</a>, which basically killed me.</p>
            </blockquote>





	to love something that death can touch

She's winning.

Emma may be in a different world, struggling to channel her magic correctly, and facing a legendary sorcerer with at least a thousand years of experience on her, but she's _winning_. She knows it, can feel it in the hum of power singing beneath her skin, can see it in the pride behind the flat obedience in Merlin's eyes. The man might have her family bound to the trees behind him, but Emma has captured the whole of his attention, and she knows he can't risk focusing his powers on anyone but her for the moment. She sends a particularly bright burst of magic towards him, forcing him stumble back slightly, and she casts an anxious glance over at the group. They're fine, if somewhat upset (Regina in particular seems furious at being tied up, mouth moving nonstop as she spits mute curses through the silencing spell Zelena had cast on her before vanishing with Arthur to who knows where), struggling uselessly against their chains.

Or perhaps not so uselessly. Her gaze zeroes in on Killian, who winks at her as he slides his hook back into his brace. Holding his arms behind him, he carefully lowers the chains to the ground, but doesn't move.

Merlin rallies with another wave of magic, and Emma turns her attention back to the problem at hand.

“I don't want to hurt you,” she calls, blocking a crimson burst of light. It bounces off of her shielding spell with a bell-like tone, echoing through the clearing.

“You have to beat me, Emma.” Merlin conjures a ball of what looks like ice, carefully arranging it over his open palm. “I can't fight the enchantment, there's no other choice.”

“There's always a choice,” she says, keeping her eyes on his hands.

“Not that I can see.”

He flings the sphere at her, and she ducks, hearing it splinter a tree behind her. Cursing under her breath, she wraps another shield around herself. If she could just tie him up- but the chains won't work, not on someone as powerful as he is, and- wait.

She squeezes her eyes shut for an instant, picturing the cuff Regina had used on Zelena. It appears in her hand, slightly worse for the wear but still buzzing with power, and Emma grins. With a flick of her wrist, she sends it flying towards Merlin, wrapped in a cocoon of light that explodes as it hits his shields. The cuff continues, snapping neatly around his wrist.

“Gotcha,” she cries triumphantly, narrowing her eyes as she tries to summon another one, because- well, Zelena may be powerful, but this is _Merlin_ she's dealing with, and she's not sure how long they have before-

Killian's voice breaks through her concentration. “Emma, watch out!”

She whirls on the spot, catching sight of Zelena and Arthur as they reappear a few feet from her. Zelena cackles, casting a shielding spell around them while Arthur advances, his handsome features contorted in a manic grin. Emma's barely raised her hands to defend herself when Killian's shoulder slams into her, sending her flying. A flash of steel, and Killian grunts harshly, doubling over as he stumbles to a halt.

“Killian!” she screams, getting to her feet. She closes the distance between them easily, but he pushes her away, eyes determined through a haze of pain; turning slightly, he places himself squarely between Emma and the sword.

Arthur _laughs_.

He raises his arm, tilting Excalibur until the bright streak of red along the edge catches the sunlight shining faintly through the thick canopy above them. “It might be broken,” he drawls, tapping a fingernail against the flat side of the blade, “but by the gods, it's still sharper than anything made by mortal hands.”

There's a ringing in her ears, growing louder and louder as Killian groans and drops to his knees in the space between them, and Emma _feels_ the pulse of magic that radiates through the clearing before it registers that she's the one who created it. The shielding spell around Arthur and Zelena shatters, flinging the pair out of the clearing, and tree roots snake out of the dirt to bind them. In the same instant, the chains restraining Emma's family vanish with a faint hiss. A high-pitched whine fills the air, and Emma isn't sure if she's the one making that sound or if it's some aftereffect of her magic, but she doesn't care. It doesn't matter, _none of it_ matters, because she's on her knees next to Killian and he's pulling his shaking hand away from his abdomen, and it's slick with blood and no, _no_ , absolutely not, _this is not happening_.

He sways on the spot and she catches him, both of them sliding to the ground. Cradling his head in her lap, Emma shifts slightly to reach the wound, putting as much pressure as she dares over the wide rip in the leather.

“'S'all right, love,” he says, voice strained, the lines around his eyes tight as he winces away from her touch.

“No, it isn't all right,” she snaps, pressing harder against his abdomen. “It's not fucking _all right_ that you got stabbed, you utter moron, when you knew that Arthur was aiming for _me_.” She wipes her eyes against her shoulder, desperately attempting to clear the tears from her vision. “What were you thinking?”

“You seemed a bit distracted by Merlin, darling. I wasn't about to just stand by and do nothing, not when we don't know what Excalibur could do to you.” He coughs, squeezing his eyes shut for a moment. “But I admit that I misjudged what he could do with a broken blade. Bloody fuck, that stings.”

She dimly registers the fact that her parents, Robin, and Regina have finally reached them, their voices hazy through the pounding in her ears. Her parents sink to the ground on either side of her, shoulders bumping against hers.

“I can handle myself,” she says, and god, there's so much blood, she's trying to keep the pressure on him but it's seeping out between her fingers, dark against his red vest, staining her skin. Glancing up, she meets her father's eyes, his brow furrowed as he stares down at her hands. “Mom, Dad, I need you to hold your hands over here, to keep pressure on it for a minute, okay? This is going to take some concentration, and I-”

“No-” Killian tries to sit up with a groan but she shoves him back down. “Emma, you can't, you can't keep using your magic, not while you're still fighting the Darkness.”

She shakes her head, willing her hands to stop trembling as she raises them above the wound. “I'm not just going to let you die.”

“Emma, wait,” her mother interrupts. “He's right, you have to think about this.”

“Seriously?” Emma says, turning to meet her mother's gaze incredulously.

“Merlin said-” her father begins, but she cuts him off.

“Merlin said a lot of things, including that Arthur would be a great king someday, and I don't see that happening.”

“As much as it pains me to say this, your parents and the pirate are right,” Regina says, bending down and passing a hand through the air over the wound. “This goes deeper than physical damage, and it's going to take more than Light magic to fix that. Diving so far into Dark magic- especially after fighting Merlin- I don't know if you'll be able to do it, not without totally embracing the Darkness.”

“Funny, I don't remember you saying that when you were asking me to save Robin,” Emma snaps. For once, Regina does not reply, her usual smirk replaced by the expression she'd worn after reliving Daniel's death. She purses her lips, returning to her full height and taking Robin's hand.

“We're trying to help you, Emma,” Mary Margaret says softly, and something _snaps_.

“No.” Emma looks down at Killian again. He's pale, so pale, and his eyes are _excruciatingly_ blue, and he's staring up at her as if she's the sun and the moon and the stars and everyone he's ever lost all rolled up into one person. He's looking at her like he's drinking her in for the last time, like he's saying goodbye, and that is- that is _unacceptable._

“No,” she says again, clenching her teeth. “I'm not losing you. Not here. Not like this.”

“I'm sorry, love,” Killian says, and she shushes him, pressing a kiss to his forehead. His skin feels clammy beneath her lips, and it's strange, it's wrong, and- _no_.

She squeezes her eyes shut.

The familiar scent of roses meets her nose, and Emma opens her eyes. They're back in the field of middlemist, Killian stretched out across the grass, and for the space of a breath, she feels as if they've fallen back in time. They can try again, with the benefit of what she knows, and-

“Bloody hell, Swan. I know I'm dying, but even I can't dream up a hallucination like this,” Killian says hoarsely, and she jerks back to the present. Carefully, she presses one hand back over his abdomen, clutching the ring he'd given her in her other fist.

“You're not going to die,” she says. “See, you gave me your luck, but I can give it back.” Lifting the chain over her head, she moves to put it back around his neck.

“No, no, keep it,” he insists, coughing. “Please.”

She complies, letting the chain fall back over her head. “But you-”

“I wanted more time with you, my love,” he slurs, raising his bloodied palm to cup her cheek. “Eons, if I could've had them. But what we've had- it's been wonderful, eh?”

“Stop talking like that. We have time, we have _so much_ time,” she says, bringing her hand to cover his. His fingers feel cool against her skin, and she knows that she must look like a murder victim, that her face must be streaked with red. “You'll see, Killian. We'll have- years and years together, enough time for you to get sick of me. You think I'm stubborn now, but wait until- until you have to share a bathroom with me.”

Killian chuckles, the sound harsh in his chest, and skims his thumb gently across her cheekbone. “Never. I would've loved every minute of it.”

“You _will_ love every minute of it,” she says fiercely, “because you're going to be _fine_ , just fine, I'm going to make it okay.” Tears roll over his fingers, dripping slowly across his hand in a faint reddish haze. “You have to let me fix this.”

“I won't have you pay this price, love.” His eyelids droop slightly, hand drifting the tiniest bit lower on her face, and he carefully slides his hook around the wrist still pressed to his abdomen. “Promise me, Emma. I've had- more years- than anyone could ask for.”

“Goddammit, don't you dare give up on me, Killian Jones,” she snaps. “You're a survivor, remember? You're a survivor, you said you wouldn't leave me, you told me you'd never-” He coughs, blood bubbling up to his lips, and she cuts herself off because no, _no_ , that can't be good. “Don't leave me here, don't you dare leave me now, not ever, but especially not now, not when I can save you.”

“You've already saved me,” he says. “Emma, I lo-”

“No, no, no, no last words. You promised me,” she whispers, bending to kiss him, ignoring the faint metallic taste of his lips. She stays low over him, foreheads pressed together. “You promised me, and you don't get to break that promise, that's bad form, _terrible_ form, hideous treasonous form, so don't even think about it, you have to stay.” She kisses him again, her tears dripping onto his cheeks. “You have to stay here with me, like you promised.”

The corner of his mouth lifts, a faint echo of his usual smile. “I'm afraid I'll have to break my word this time.” He tangles his fingers in her hair, struggling to keep his eyes open. “I love you, Emma.”

“I love you,” she whispers. He manages another smile (the soft one, the one he only ever shows to her, the one that reminds her of standing by a fire in the Enchanted Forest with a mother who didn't know her) just before everything goes slack. “Killian.” He does not respond, eyes sliding shut, and she presses her fingers to his neck. “Killian, no, please-”

She finds his pulse at last, stuttering irregularly against her fingertips, and- _no._

Lifting her hands parallel to Killian's body, she feels the familiar tingle of magic building inside of her. A rush of light streams from her palms, enveloping both of them in a golden haze, before it fades from her vision. She looks down at Killian hopefully.

Her heart drops.

“It didn't work,” she says to herself, eyes drawn to the dark stain on his vest, growing larger as she stares. “Why didn't it work?”

“Your little friend was right, Emma. You can't fix this without using the Darkness, and that magic comes with a steep price.” Emma's head snaps up at the silky whisper, her gaze landing on Nimue's eerily beautiful face. “What is it they say? All the king's horses, and all the king's men- well, they can't help you put him together again.”

“No,” Emma whispers. “You don't understand, I won't let him-”

Nimue cuts her off with a sneer. “He will die. You know this. All magic comes with a price, and you are too _weak_ to do what needs to be done to save him,” she snaps. “Your True Love is dying, yet you do nothing, because he _fears your power_? The man who wounded him still lives, and you will not seek the revenge you ought. I had such high hopes for you, Emma, but it seems I am to be disappointed. You truly are _nothing_.”

“Tell me what to do, tell me how to save him, and I'll do it.”

“Oh, we both know that's not true,” Nimue says.

Emma sees _red_.

“Don't try to tell me what I will or will not do for the people I love,” she snaps. “There is nothing, _nothing_ I wouldn't do to save him.”

“Nothing?” Nimue asks, raising her eyebrows. “Nothing at all?” Emma hesitates and Nimue vanishes, reappearing on Killian's other side. “If that's true, I think we can come to an agreement. If not, well, he's hardly the first to be killed defending a Dark One.”

“What do I need to do?”

“All magic comes with a price, and the price for a life is a life,” Nimue says. “You know that already, you've seen it. But this is not nearly so simple as that. Excalibur is not just any sword, after all, and the wound is deep. Saving your lover will take more than just the exchange, and-.”

“Just tell me what I have to do,” Emma interrupts.

“You must tether him to this world with Excalibur, just as you are bound to the dagger.” Nimue's gaze drifts to Emma's waist, where the dagger sits in a leather sheath. “You will both be immortal, so long as you are not killed with either blade.”

“That's not _life_ ,” Emma protests. “And he would never-”

“Then you must give him up,” Nimue spits. “Give him up, and move on without him, for all your endless days. If you won't trade a life for his, if you won't bind him to the realm of the living, then you must accept that you have lost him.”

Emma's head is throbbing, her eyes stinging, and Killian is too still, and they'd been so happy when they'd first arrived, so certain they would succeed, that they'd go home and-

“Now, if you do want to keep him,” Nimue continues, breaking into Emma's train of thought, “I can help you. We can save your lover, and do so much more.” She smiles, her teeth a blinding white against her blue-green lips. “All you have to do is follow my instructions.”

“I can't trust you.”

“And you shouldn't,” she says, as Rumpelstiltskin appears beside her.

“Dark one tricks, dark one lies, after all,” he giggles.

“But, my dear,” Nimue reaches out, one scaly hand tracing the line of Emma's cheekbone, “what do you have to lose?”

Emma hesitates, thinking of Henry's wide eyes, of her father's hands cradling the back of her head, of her mother helping her dress for her first date with Killian.

_Killian._

His breathing is ragged, and she can barely feel the rise and fall of his chest. If she does nothing, if she waits, she knows she'll never see him again, never feel his lips on hers, never hear him tell her he loves her, never look up to catch his gaze from across the room. If she does this- perhaps the same thing will happen. Perhaps he'll never forgive her.

It's a risk she's willing to take.

“How do I trade a life?” she asks shakily, and Nimue beams. “I don't want- I can't hurt my family, or my friends.”

“We'll make a deal. I'll help you save your lover, if you will allow me to collect the price, and it won't be anyone else that you love.” Emma nods. “Good girl. Now, all you have to do now is embrace the Darkness.”

“How?” Emma whispers.

“You know how,” Rumpelstiltskin says, in a sing-song voice. “You've been fighting it long enough, after all.”

“Find the part of you that's been holding onto the light. Look deep, Emma,” Nimue instructs. “Now, _let go_.”

And it's easy- easier than the past few days have been, struggling with the endless nights and resisting the urge to unleash the energy swirling through her. She feels the buzz of power, body vibrating with the sensation as it settles into her bloodstream. Her skin tingles and she gasps, staring at her hands as they begin to shimmer, just as they had after she'd saved Robin. It's only a few seconds, but it feels much longer, the Darkness coiling within her and wrapping neatly around her heart.

“Well done,” Nimue murmurs. “How do you feel?”

Emma flexes her fingers, blood flaking from her skin and power rushing through her. She'd love to see Arthur now, her palms itching to feel his heart crushed between them. “Like nobody will ever take anything from me again.”

“Excellent. Now, take out the dagger.”

Emma pulls the dagger from its sheath, the polished metal gleaming under the bright sun. Wrapping her fingers around the hilt, she shifts from under Killian's head, holding the weapon over him. She takes a deep breath, glancing up at Nimue.

The woman nods. “Do it.”

She focuses on the heady buzz of magic electrifying her blood, channeling it towards Killian. The dagger begins to glow gold, vibrating in her grip as it sucks dark trails of magic from him. Light pours from the metal, burning her hands, but she tightens her hold on the hilt. The ground shakes beneath them, her knees sinking into the earth as the heat intensifies. Squeezing her eyes shut, Emma forces herself to think about Killian's face, about the way he'd looked at her by the wishing well (a piercing-eyed, smoldering pirate _who loved her_ ), his smile when he'd first brought her to this field. A burst of energy pulses from her, bright against her eyelids, and everything stops.

Silence.

Opening her eyes, she looks down at Killian. The only evidence now of his wound is the slash through his vest, revealing the unmarked skin underneath, and she breathes a sigh of relief. Killian sits up with a gasp, chest heaving as he blinks rapidly. His eyes find hers at once, wide and so, _so_ blue.

She grins. “Hey there, sailor.”

“Swan, what did you do?”

“What needed to be done.” Her voice sounds slightly off to her own ears, clipped and formal and cool, but she can't bring herself to care. She runs her hands over the lapels of his jacket, tugging him closer to her and brushing her lips across his. “You're alive, does it matter how it happened?”

“It does when I don't know the price you've paid.” His eyes dart across her face, his hand coming up to cup her cheek. “Gods, Emma, you look-”

She glances down at herself, blinking at the blood streaked across her clothes and skin. “Right, right, I forgot.” Flicking her wrist, she removes the stains easily, replacing the gauzy gown with a leather ensemble that nearly matches his. “There.”

He stares, open-mouthed. “What-”

“We have to get back to the others,” she interrupts, getting to her feet and offering him a hand. “I've got some unfinished business with Arthur.” Sparks burst from her fingertips and Killian steps away from her, staring.

“What d'you mean by that, love?” he says.

“He almost killed you,” Emma hisses, the itch under her skin intensifying. “He almost took you away from me. I'm going to teach him what happens when they try to do things like that.”

“Is this- did you-” He grabs her by the arm, his hook landing at her waist. “The Darkness, did you-”

She hesitates, words heavy on her tongue. “Yes. I did. But it's okay,” she says quickly, “it's fine, it's really fine. I'm still me, see? I can just do more now. We don't have to stay here, we don't have to be afraid, because I'm- I'm better.”

And it's _devastating_ \- the way his eyes dim, face crumpling as he releases her, taking a heavy step away.

“Better,” he repeats, his voice flat. “You've embraced the Darkness, and it's my fault, and I'm supposed to think this is a _positive_ development.”

“I couldn't lose you. I can't be sorry for that.”

“Please.” He swallows, adam's apple bobbing in his throat. “Whatever you've done, undo it.”

Emma pauses, furrowing her forehead as she watches him, but shakes her head. “No. This is my choice, Killian. Can't you see? I can do _anything_.”

Nimue coughs quietly, raising her eyebrows as Emma meets her gaze.

“And right now,” Emma continues, holding out her hand to him, “what I need to do is get back to my parents.” He flinches away from her, staring as her skin sparkles in the light, and it _hurts_. “Killian?”

“Aye,” he says slowly, taking her hand. “I think getting back to your parents is an excellent plan.”

“Good. Let's go.” She blinks and a column of dark smoke curls around them, carrying them away.

**Author's Note:**

> If you'd like to stay updated on my writing (or join the fun of constant CS blogging), please feel free to check out my [tumblr](http://in-each-place-and-forever.tumblr.com/) and/or my [writing tumblr](http://distinct-elements-of-speech.tumblr.com/).
> 
> Title comes from this anonymous quote:
> 
>  
> 
> _how terrible it is_  
>  _to love something_  
>  _that death can_  
>  _touch_


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